


The Mute

by wickedlupin



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe, Kid Fic, M/M, Mute Remus, mentions of neglect and abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-16
Updated: 2016-05-21
Packaged: 2018-05-07 00:37:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 4,315
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5436896
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wickedlupin/pseuds/wickedlupin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Remus leaves home at a young age to go in search of a family who might understand him without the need for spoken words.  Inspired by <i>The Mute</i> and other songs by Radical Face.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

_Well, as a child I mostly spoke inside my head._  
_I had conversations with the clouds, the dogs, the dead._  
_And they thought me broken, that my tongue was coated lead,_  
_But I just couldn’t make my words make sense to them._  
_If you only listen with your ears… I can’t get in._

 

* * *

 

The grass crunched beneath little toes as Remus ran with the dogs. They weren’t his dogs. They were the neighbors’ dogs. He wasn’t allowed to have dogs of his own, but these dogs did just fine. They understood him, ran and played with him just as they did with each other. He ran down the edge of the woods until his lungs burned. The dogs leapt on him when he stopped, and he smiled and patted their heads, then lay down in the grass with them to catch his breath.

Remus was six years old, nearly seven. He had a bright mind for someone so small, but every idea that came to him was only between himself and the dogs. Remus couldn’t speak.

He couldn’t recall his parents ever yelling at him, but he always felt that they were disappointed that they hadn’t been blessed with a normal son. He could catch it in his mother’s eyes, on stormy days when he had to stay in with her, and he could see it when his father refused to look at him during dinner.

But Remus could spend hours staring at the sky, memorizing every star or cloud that passed by. He wasn’t ashamed of the way he was. He knew that he was worth something. He only wished that he had been born to parents who could celebrate the things he enjoyed, and that his parents had instead received a perfect baby boy, with a voice.

When he had lain on his back for about half an hour, the dogs got up to head home, and so he followed them. They walked back up the hill to Remus’s little home, where his mother was hanging laundry. She glanced at him when he came into sight, then looked away again. “Wash your hands for dinner, Remus,” she told him, her voice empty of emotion.

If Remus had a voice, he thought, it would always have emotion embedded in it.

He did as he was told, then sat at the table until his parents eventually came to join him. They didn’t speak to him, hardly recognized him there at all, and didn’t even speak to each other aside from simple commands to pass a dish. They cleared the table and went to bed, leaving Remus sitting there by himself.

He missed the dogs when he was at home.

Remus stared out the window until it was dark, then quietly went outside to lie on the lawn and look at the stars. He liked to imagine he was one of them, and that the stars surrounding him loved him unlike any other. He stayed out until the moon was high. He may have stayed out all night, if his mother had not come to speak sternly from the front door.

“Remus. Go to bed.”

So he did.

In the morning, instead of going out to meet the dogs right after breakfast, Remus went back upstairs to his room. He sat down on the wood floor with a stack of paper and began drawing out everything he liked about his current world. He drew the dogs, and the hills, and the kitchen window. He smiled and folded the drawings neatly in half, the stood to dress himself in his favorite clothes, his red sweater and his most comfortable shoes. He pulled the case off of his pillow and stuffed it with his few valued possessions. He slid his folded drawings down the side. He took one last glance around, then carried his pillowcase downstairs and outside.

He didn’t run into his mother, and he certainly saw no sign of his father. The dogs barked and ran at him, following him down the path to the edge of the forest they took most every day. They walked with him along the trees as far as they had ever gone, then stopped and started to head back the way they had come. Remus paused to watch them, repeating his goodbyes over and over in his mind. Then he turned away and kept walking.

 

* * *

 

 _So, then one afternoon I dressed myself alone._  
_I packed my pillowcase with everything I owned._  
_And in my head I said goodbye, then I was gone,_  
_And I set out on the heels of the unknown_  
_So my folks could have a new life of their own._

_The Mute - Radical Face_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so this chapter is just about word for word from the song lmao sorry but future chapters will hopefully be a bit more outstanding. i've honestly never posted my work anywhere but i've had this idea ever since i first listened to radical face so i'm really just hoping this turns out halfway decent thanks


	2. Chapter 2

He didn’t have a clue where he was going. Days of walking passed by, leaving Remus sleeping under the stars and eating bits of bread sparingly. In the beginning it had been an adventure, but as time went on he was only nearly seven years old, and he was tired, and he was getting hungry. He wondered what he would do if he never came upon a town.

He lost track of the days. Surely it hadn’t been more than a week, but he wasn’t sure. A house in the distance was a ray of hope for him. His pace picked up as he imagined the smiling faces of a family, a mother cooking a big, hearty meal, a father with open arms, and none of them feeling any need to hear Remus speak. They would love him. He was positive.

He slowed down again as he reached the house, timidly peering into a side window. There was someone sitting inside, on the floor. But they were small, too small to be the mother or father Remus had pictured. The small someone turned their face enough to catch sight of Remus and started. It was a boy, maybe around Remus’s age. He stood up off the floor and ran out of the room, out of Remus’s sight.

Remus’s heart pounded. If this family already had a boy, maybe they wouldn’t be so happy to have him. He shifted from foot to foot, rooted in place by the window. He felt stuck. He was scared and lonely and he didn’t know what to do.

“Who’re you?”

The voice came from behind him, and suddenly Remus could move again. He spun around to face the boy he had just seen previously. He stared at him, unable to respond, unsure how to communicate. He touched his throat a little. _I can’t speak,_ he thought with all his might. _I don’t have a voice. I can’t tell you._

The boy frowned at him. “What’s your name?” he tried.

Remus tapped his throat, then his mouth, and shook his head. _It’s Remus. My name is Remus. Please understand._

But the boy didn’t understand.

“What, can’t you talk?”

Remus shook his head. The boy’s face crumpled up in concern.

“Why not? What happened to you?”

Remus didn’t have much choice but to shrug. He didn’t have a way to answer. He wished the boy would stop asking him questions.

“I’m Peter Pettigrew. Do you want to come inside? My mum’s in the garden, but she probably won’t mind. I have toys, a really cool wood train I’ll let you play with.”

Remus smiled at him for the first time, and Peter seemed pleased. He grabbed Remus’s hand. “C’mon.”

Peter took him inside the house, and they sat down to play with the train. Peter had three younger sisters who came to play with them, too. It was sort of nice, Remus thought. He didn’t need to speak to any of them to push around a train.

Peter’s mother was surprised when she came in from the garden. They must not get many visitors, living so far outside of town. Especially not mute boys without parents to account for them. Peter told his mother that Remus was his new friend, and that he couldn’t speak, and he asked if it was alright for him to stay for dinner. This mother was kind. She said that of course it was fine, and she looked at Remus with a gentle expression that was foreign to him.

Remus ate three helpings during dinner. Mr. and Mrs. Pettigrew offered him a place to sleep, so he nodded his head to accept. He wished he could offer more of a response to show his gratitude. They were being awfully kind to him.

Peter took Remus on a search through the house for as many blankets as they could find, then laid them all out on the floor in Peter’s bedroom. As Remus lay in the dark wrapped up in them, however, he felt that this was not where he belonged. This family may not be ashamed to have him, but they couldn’t hear him. Perhaps he would accept their hospitality for now, but he knew he couldn’t stay here. There was someone out there he needed to find.

Remus intended to leave the following morning. But after breakfast, when Remus took up his pillowcase, Mrs. Pettigrew insisted he stay.

“Where will you go, sweetheart? You’re too small to be out there by yourself.”

She sat him down and talked about building a bed of his own, and making space for it in Peter’s room. Remus didn’t argue with her. He couldn’t, even if he tried.

Remus celebrated his seventh birthday in the Pettigrew home. He was the only one who knew. He sang songs of birthday wishes inside his head, and decided that now, as he was solidly seven years old, he would move on again.

But when he tried, he was stopped by Peter’s sisters, who cried and held onto his arms and told him he had to stay. Remus didn’t really see why they wanted him there so badly. They couldn’t hear him. They hardly knew anything about him. But he stayed anyway.

He stayed longer than he ever dreamed to. Spring and Summer flew by in a flash of memories made following Peter and his sisters around. They never went too far from the house, but would occasionally chase each other, and Remus would be reminded of running with the dogs. Only with the dogs he was always heard.

Before he knew it, cold was rushing in with a ruthless bite that only promised to get stronger. Remus could hardly even think of trying to travel the way he did the week after he left home. So although he had already remained there much too long, he was forced to accept the generosity of the Pettigrews for another half a year.

His birthday was approaching again. If he was confident at the age of seven, eight would be even better, he thought. He got out of bed late one night in March. He took paper out of his pillowcase and drew everything he loved about the Pettigrew’s home. In contrast to the things he loved about his previous home, he drew the faces of Mr. and Mrs. Pettigrew, and Peter, and each of his sisters. He placed the drawings back in his pillowcase and drew one more, of all of them together. He put himself in the center, with one finger touching his lips. He left his final drawing on the table, and walked away for the second time.

 

* * *

 

_Well, I know it's a good life,_  
_Yeah, I know it's a good life,_  
_But I gotta keep moving,_  
_I was made to keep moving._  
_And I know it's a long shot,_  
_It was always a long shot,_  
_But I'm trusting my aim now,_  
_Yeah, I'm trusting my aim._

_Wandering - Radical Face_


	3. Chapter 3

_Lost, out among the trees,_  
_Our hands scraped the bark._  
_You still had bloody knees_  
_From your spill in the dark._  
_We were both laughing then_  
_While carving bad words in the wood._  
_We had no need to speak._

 

* * *

 

 

Time went on.  Remus passed through towns, but no one offered him help, and he could not ask for it.  He became accustomed to taking food when he could find it; bits of bread thrown out with the waste, or scraps of meat put out for dogs.  He searched people's eyes on the street for a connection, but it never came, so he kept walking.  He passed farm upon farm without finding another family willing to care for him like the Pettigrews had.  The air was getting warm again.

He came upon a forest, and started walking alongside it instead of going through.  It would take longer, but he was afraid that if he went in he would never find his way out.  He ambled along for a while, then heard a loud noise come from inside the woods.  Was it a yell?  Or a laugh?  It sounded human.  He stopped, listening hard.  Sure enough, there was laughter coming from the trees.  He carefully stepped into the woods, curiously making his way toward the sound.

As he got closer, he could make out words every so often.

"...higher!"

"Nice one, James!"

Remus crept up to the base of a big oak tree that seemed to be the source of the noise.  Two boys were up in the branches, evidently trying to climb to the top.  He moved around at the bottom, trying to get a better view of them, when one messy-haired boy glanced down and made eye contact with him.  He gasped.  "Sirius, there's someone down there!"

The other boy, Sirius, looked down as well.  "Who?"

"I don't know, never seen him before."

They both started climbing down the tree.  Remus backed up a little, nervous about trying to communicate with them once they were on the ground.  The first boy made it down first, jumping from the lowest branch.  "I'm James.  Who're you?"

As he had done countless times by now along his journey, Remus pointed to his throat, shaking his head.  James furrowed his eyebrows, then looked at Sirius as he hopped to the ground beside him.

"What's wrong?" Sirius asked, looking between them.  "Who are you?"

Remus patiently repeated his gesture.  Sirius hardly seemed phased.

"Oh.  Can you write?"

Remus started to shake his head, but James interrupted.

"Hey, how did you know what he meant?"

Sirius shrugged, frowning at him.  "It's not so hard to figure out.  He can't talk."

They squabbled over it for a minute, while Remus tried to hide a smile.  Sirius finally ignored James and looked back at Remus.  "You can't write?" he asked, continuing where they left off.  Remus shook his head again.

"Well, that's alright."

The sound of a bell came from somewhere far off.  James looked at Sirius.  "We gotta go.  I'm hungry." He started walking off to the west.

Sirius rolled his eyes, smiling at Remus.  "Come with us.  James's mom is making potato soup."

Remus followed them through the woods.  Eventually, the trees started to clear up, and a short distance from the forest sat a farm with smoke billowing from the chimney.  James's mother was waiting for them on the porch.  There was no shock written on her face when she spotted Remus with them.  She looked at her son, feigning exasperation.  "You've brought along another one, have you?  What's his name?"

James shrugged, trying to duck into the house.  "We don't know his name, mom, he can't talk!"

 

The family welcomed Remus with no question, no bewilderment, and Remus sat next to Sirius and ate his soup comfortably.  Once everyone had finished eating, James's father, who introduced himself as Fleamont Potter, asked Remus where he had come from.  Sirius frowned at him while Remus shifted nervously in his seat.

"You're not expecting him to answer that in nods and hand gestures, are you?  We have to teach him to write."  He looked Remus in the eyes.  "You came from far away, didn't you?  You need somewhere to stay."

Remus nodded his head.

"Then he can stay, right?" Sirius asked Mr. Potter.  "He's just like me, he needs a family."

The Potters didn't hesitate at all to agree.

 

Sirius and James shared a bedroom, which Remus then shared as well.  Remus started to make a place on the floor for himself, but Sirius insisted that there was plenty of room in his bed for him.  Remus was a bit unsure at first, but as he lay next to Sirius, able to feel his body heat and hear the rhythm of his breathing, he knew something was right.  This is what he had been looking for.

 

The next morning, James and Sirius took Remus all over the woods, showing him all their favorite spots.  Although Remus had seen Peter and his sisters play during his time spent with them, he had hardly participated himself, as he had felt like an outsider to them.  While James and Sirius played, however, Remus felt a sense of belonging.  Sirius assigned Remus the part of the wolf while they played pretend, a part that required no speech.  Remus's heart swelled as he chased after the two boys long into the day.

They returned to the house for dinner when Mrs. Potter rang her bell, then set back out to show Remus the lake.

The sun was setting, and James ran ahead, kicking off his shoes as the water came into sight.  Sirius stayed behind with Remus, taking their time.

"Once the stars are out, the lake's real pretty," Sirius told Remus sort of quietly, expecting no reply.  He didn't speak the rest of the way to the water's edge.  A sort of understanding rested between them.

James was already splashing around in the water.  He yelled at Sirius to join him.  Sirius laughed and rushed in to splash him once, then darted back out to sit on the shore with Remus before James could get him too wet.

The sky got darker, and all three boys lay down in the grass to watch the stars emerge and the moon rise up to take the sun's place.  Remus felt more at ease than he ever had in his life.  Sirius looked over at him and grinned.  "You look all moony," he said.  Remus smiled back at him and thought as hard as he could about how much he appreciated him and James, how right it felt to be with them, and how long he had dreamed of what they were now providing him with.  He felt sure it would get through to him.  Sirius would understand.

Sirius stretched out his arm between them and held Remus's hand.  "I'm glad you found us, Moony," he said.  "It's like you belong here."

Remus couldn't have agreed more.

 

* * *

 

 _Dirt in our ears, sun in our eyes,_  
_Shirts hung in rags, head in the clouds,_  
_Our fears had no teeth, hearts were still blind,_  
_You barely talked, and I didn't mind._

_Summer Skeletons - Radical Face_

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it's been a while but today i have my blinds open and my fan is on and the feeling of summer air got me itching to write something. also i got radical face's family tree box set in the mail last week. i think i've decided to write one more chapter and then maybe an epilogue, but that's still subject to change


	4. Chapter 4

The summer months passed by, and Remus felt a kind of love he had never before experienced grow between himself and the family he had become a part of.  Mrs. Potter, with the occasional help from Sirius, began teaching him how to write.  He grasped the basics quickly, but struggled a bit with memorizing the different sounds each letter could make.  He studied hard, fascinated by this way of communication he had never learned.  When he grew tired of memorization, he would draw on the edges of the paper.  He doodled little scenes from the forest or the lake, or he tried creating portraits of his new family.  Sometimes he drew the dogs that he hadn't seen in years.

He was practicing letters on a messy, doodle-filled scrap of paper when Sirius and James came home from playing out at the lake.  Sirius sat down beside him and looked down at the attempted words.  "Rem?" he read from the corner.  "What's that?"

Remus kept focusing on the paper.  He started writing fragments of the alphabet until he came upon the letter he needed, then added the letter "U" to his forming word.  It didn't take him as long to end it with an "S." He studied it for another moment, then looked up at Sirius, who was frowning at him.  "Is it a name?" he mused, then realization washed over him.  "It's  _your_ name!"

Remus smiled at him and nodded, then wrote "Moony" just beneath his name.  They both fit him just fine.

 

 By the time winter rolled around again, Remus was able to write sentences.  Sirius and James weren't allowed to play outside as much, for Mrs. Potter's fear that they would catch cold.  Sirius spent most of his time curled up with Remus, asking him questions about himself that he would write out answers to.  When Remus wrote that his birthday was in March, Sirius's face lit up with excitement.  "But that's only a couple months from now!  I'm glad we didn't miss it."

During the next month, Remus began to notice Sirius and James disappearing together.  They would sneak out of the house, then whisper to each other a lot upon their return.  Remus tried not to give too much thought to their obvious secret.  He would just study and draw while they were away.  Toward the end of February, Remus noticed their fingers stained in reds and blues and yellows.  When the tenth of March arrived, the two boys presented him with a set of paints made from berries, leaves, and flowers.  Remus was very eager to try them out.

He started small; he used tiny strokes to create little flowers or stars the size of his fingerprint.  As his confidence grew with his new tools, he began trying to fill each page he worked on.  He used different colors depending on how he was feeling, which Sirius only used as another way to read him.

 

April brought a warmer breeze, but after overcast days the nights were still chilly.  It was late, near midnight, when Sirius woke Remus gently and gestured for him to follow him out onto the lawn.  They stepped carefully to avoid waking James or either of his parents.  Once they were out in the night, Sirius took Remus's hand and pointed up at the moon.  "It's full tonight," he whispered.  Remus's mouth curled into a soft smile.  He moved closer to Sirius, shivering from the wind.  They sat down in the grass with their shoulders pressed together.  Sirius began to talk quietly, just talking, about whatever came to mind.  Remus laid his head over onto his shoulder as he listened to stories about Sirius's parents, who had beat him and kicked him and told him he was never wanted, about Sirius's little brother, who he feared may now be taking the beatings in his place, and about Sirius's first journey away from town, where he found his new family.  Remus held tight to his hand and offered him a smile.

 _We're not so different at all,_ he thought, and Sirius seemed to understand.

 

* * *

 

 

 _We crept from the room,_  
_The moonlight spilled down the hall_  
_And I tiptoed with you._  
_Then we climbed out the window._  
_And there in the yard,_  
_Our nightclothes blowing in the breeze_  
_And you looked up at the sky_  
_And said the moon would be ours._

_Nightclothes - Radical Face_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this was a pretty short one!!! this is the end of our main story. the next chapter will only be a short epilogue taking place about fifteen years from where we're leaving off now. i really appreciate the kudos and comments, i'm already forming ideas for another fic that i may end up posting later! thanks for helping to boost my confidence!!!


	5. Epilogue

Remus was gathering the last of the things he would need for the coming week. He packed a few changes of clothes into a little bag and set it near the door, among a dozen covered paintings that he hoped to return without. Sirius poked his head in the front door.

"The horses are tied down, we can start loading up."

Remus nodded his understanding and picked up the first of the twelve paintings to take it out to the wagon. He placed it carefully, so that not even a corner could escape the wrapping and become damaged. Sirius helped him with the rest. The sun was only beginning to rise.

As they finished loading the paintings and their few bags, James stepped into the doorway, yawning and rubbing his eyes.

"Mom wants me to make sure you both have enough food," he said tiredly.

Remus smiled. Sirius chuckled for both of them. "We'll be fine. Tell her thanks."

James nodded and raised his hand to wave.  "Have a good trip.  Bring me back something cool."

Sirius rolled his eyes and shoved James back into the house, laughing with him.  He closed the door behind him and walked back out to Remus.  He stopped to give him a brief kiss.

"All ready?"

He nodded his response.

Sirius helped Remus into the wagon, then hoisted himself up after him.  He sat close beside him and held onto the reins.  They started moving along the side of the woods, toward the sunrise.  The road was familiar; they had taken it several times like this by now.  Remus was becoming fairly well known as a local artist, and Sirius as his salesman.  They traveled into town every few months with a collection of Remus's work, selling what they could, and then moving to the next town, until they sold most of what they started with.

"Think we'll sell it all in one go this time?" Sirius asked.  Remus answered with a funny, crooked smile and a little huff of breath, his form of laughter.  Sirius grinned at his response.

"What will you do once you're a famed artist, Moony?  Will you still have time for me?" he teased, nudging Remus a bit with his elbow.

Remus rolled his eyes.   _I couldn't be famous without you to help me._

Sirius glanced at him and chuckled.  "We make a good team, don't we?  Of course you'll let me stick around."

Remus reached to hold onto his arm, leaning close to kiss his cheek.   _Of course._

 

* * *

 

_...And then maybe I could find someone  
Who could hear the only words that I'd known._

_The Mute - Radical Face_


End file.
